Spacing
by Sanpizil
Summary: Between the webs and the pies, Ciel is at a loss. Claude, however, is not- and neither is Sebastian. On a hot spring day, there's more to do than just linens, and on a cold winter morning, there's more to be had than mistletoe. Something of an AU.
1. Spiders

As is usual, I don't own Kuroshitsuji. Of course not. That said, thank you to everybody that's been leaving such interesting reviews and favorites and such. I'm happy that you all enjoy reading these silly things I've written.

* * *

In sorting out the matter of Ciel's soul and estate, Claude and Sebastian eventually came to an agreement of sorts. While Ciel in fact had very little to do with the formation of said agreement, he was at the center of it, as usual. Claude conceded the dressing and undressing of the young master, while Sebastian conceded such day-to-days as the setting of the table.

Over the issue of who would polish the cutlery, cut the flowers, and wash the linens, there was a bitter and heated argument that resulted, as most snits between the men seemed to, in Sebastian making absurdly extravagant pastries while spider webs multiplied seemingly by the thousand. (In the end, Sebastian yielded the sheets in exchange for the cutlery; the linens were an ongoing issue.)

Ciel was only partially party to these tussles of ego. He occasionally made a face when confronted with the overnight disappearance of the kitchen door behind a monstrous mat of webs, and sometimes he seemed a bit lackluster when faced with a succulent fruit tart (the fifth that day, and all before tea). Overall, though, he let the two demons sort things out themselves.

However, ever since Claude had presented himself on the doorstep rather like a surprisingly well-groomed stray, Ciel had found another reason to protest entirely. Sebastian, never precisely the best at sharing, now found himself at a loss when Claude insisted on it. Agni had certainly showed Sebastian the path to allowing help, but Claude did not take orders and Sebastian did not give them twice. While a hard word from Ciel now and then seemed to sort things out, he wondered what on earth they did when he wasn't around.

One day in late spring, Ciel sat rather resolutely out in the garden and enjoyed the shade. While ordering the windows open had helped the inside of the manse just a tad, the fact was that the family home was built to endure the hard winds that came from the north, not allow the fragile breezes of spring in. It was, in short, still intolerably stuffy.

Meilin, Finny, and Bard, still the same disaster-ridden souls as they were before the presence of two demonic butlers, were taking naps in their favorite respective spots. (Ciel thought he'd seen Finny nestled in a particularly exquisitely-shaped hedge on the way to the garden, but he couldn't be sure.) Claude's reaction to them had been amusing; used as he was to his own, rather competent, triplet servants, his struggles to do damage control had constantly amused the ever-enduring Sebastian.

Said triplets were in fact also taking naps, if Ciel had seen the bundle of legs and arms under the servant's stair correctly. Honestly, he wasn't sure if they were actually napping (Sebastian never seemed to) or if they were simply doing some strange demonic bonding ritual. One could never be too open-minded when it came to demons, he had found.

'The house is positively brimming with people,' Ciel mused to himself, and stretched out a little under the broad parasol over the table.

'If we are to count as people,' Claude commented. Ciel fought mightily not to jump, keeping his eyes shut. He didn't have the same sense of presence towards Claude as he did Sebastian. Supposedly (he'd asked Sebastian) it had to do with the fact of Claude's innate nature, but Ciel suspected that it more likely had to do with his lack of a contract with the butler.

'I don't see why not,' Ciel retorted, slitting open his eye to inspect the cup of chilled tea that had been placed in front of him. 'You have yet to eliminate on the rug, at least.'

'What high expectations,' Claude commented dryly, his mouth set firmly in a frown. However, he was looking at Ciel so thoughtfully that there was no mistaking the fact that he was amused.

'That is the young master,' Sebastian said from behind both of them, bearing a tray set with three separate kinds of cake, all of them seemingly chocolate. (Ciel rather suspected that his butler had _issues_ concerning the substance.) 'Constantly holding his staff to excessively high standards.'

Raising an eyebrow, he stared down at the cakes. These were no tiny treats, meant to be eaten with laughably small dessert forks. No, they were in fact full cakes- and one was exquisitely decorated with fresh flowers and a marzipan statue in the form of Artemis. Ciel surreptitiously inspected his teacup, running his fingers up and under the lip of the bottom- yes, there was the silky, faintly sticky brush of a web in miniature.

Sebastian, unaware of this discovery or perhaps feigning innocence, served Ciel a piece of cake that was, quite frankly, inexcusably large.

'Fattening me up?' Ciel asked casually, before bringing his fingers up to display the web as well. The faces of both men changed: Sebastian's "I have done nothing and am completely innocent" face was cheery and airy, while Claude's "you may have discovered something but I will never admit it while the world still turns" face was as placid as the face of a tomb.

'What is it this time,' Ciel mused, taking a bite of the cake and shooting Claude a death glare when he moved forward as if to feed him, 'the linens again?'

'Of course not, young master,' chirped Sebastian. Ciel contemplated the cake- heady dark chocolate mousse with a swirl of raspberries. Rather traditional. Sebastian must have been feeling a tad on the defensive. 'They won't need a good wash again for at least a day.'

'The cat?' Sebastian's… female friend… had been met with instant suspicion from Claude. Given that she seemed fond of rolling through any and all webs she came across, Ciel didn't feel this to be entirely unwarranted on the spider demon's part.

'No,' Claude said quietly, adjusting his glasses, 'she is hiding from the heat.'

'Then _what_?' Ciel demanded, thumping down his fork and sipping at the tea. His mood wasn't being helped by the heat and the heavy velvet of his coat. He rather wanted to take it off, actually, but that wasn't quite proper (and it had so many buttons that he wasn't entirely sure how to do it anyway).

'It is a matter of decor, actually,' Sebastian said with a curious sort of manner to his words. Ciel leaned back in his chair to study the man. If he hadn't known better, he would have said that Sebastian was actually… tentative.

It was a good thing he _did_ know better.

'What sort of decor?'

It concerned his bedroom, as it turned out. Sebastian was of the mind that the young master was old enough that it should be redecorated to suit his growing maturity. Claude was in agreement with this. (Ciel hadn't yet been consulted, nor informed. Honestly, if he had actually _cared_ he would have been positively insulted.) The issue, however, was one of color.

'Red is so lurid,' Sebastian commented with the lovely kind of smile that meant he was being catty. 'A pale, rich blue is far better.'

'That would be too similar to the guest parlor,' Claude retorted, face set into a stony stare that was approaching the kind of expression a man wore when throttling somebody. 'Which is already royal blue.'

Ciel, sitting on the bed and fiddling with his sleeves for something to do, rolled his eyes. Did it matter?

'There simply is no sense talking to the kind of man that would allow his charge to wear what he did,' Sebastian mused sadly, seemingly confiding this fact to a portrait of a duck Ciel had been given by Lizzie. (He actually liked it quite a bit, hence its location.)

'Ciel,' Claude said firmly, 'surely you desire a powerful color rather than one you would find in a nursery.'

There was a moment of silence before both butlers realized he wasn't paying attention to them at all.

Gazing out the window longingly, Ciel made a noncommittal noise. 'I'm sure it will be fine.'

'But which _one_?' entreated Claude seriously, expression grave as sin.

'It is an important matter,' Sebastian confirmed, and stepping up a little behind the other man he did something that made him startle and stiffen simultaneously.

Ciel, attention attracted by this curious action, blinked at both of them. Finally something occurred to him, and he smiled brilliantly. Sebastian, well used to his young master, looked decidedly concerned. Claude was still dealing with whatever had been done to his backside and thus missed both expressions.

'I suppose you'll both just have to sort it out yourselves,' he said precisely as Sebastian did something again and Claude outright jumped. Ciel's eyes narrowed. 'While I supervise, since neither of you can seem to manage the feat yourselves.'

Claude gave him such a slanting, assessing look as he spoke that Ciel wondered if he had accidentally revealed something. 'As you wish,' Sebastian agreed, and bowed. Claude took the chance to strike, which Ciel was so unsurprised by as to be outright bored.

While a battle between two demonic butlers involving cutlery and invisible threads seemed like the sort of thing to be absolutely riveting, the sad fact was that Ciel had seen it so many times he was completely inured to the sight. Instead, he took the chance to stare longingly out the window. Imagining himself as a bird, he began to take a mental flight out among the flowers- and he would of course fly high enough to stay cool.

The sudden impact of two tall bodies right next to him on the bed made Ciel jump.

'What-!' he started to demand, but then paused and just stared. Sebastian had thrown himself at Claude, and currently seemed to be aiming for his throat with his teeth. Claude didn't seem to be having any trouble fending off the other demon, though seizing the upper hand instead seemed to be challenging him. Apparently the issue of color was more important than Ciel had imagined, given that Sebastian was going at another man with his teeth over it.

'Sebastian, _stop that_.' Honestly, Ciel felt it was a _bit much_.

Giving his master a mutinous look, he ceased his desperate struggle and was instantly rolled over onto his back by the more solid butler. Claude took a moment to smooth his hair, clearly preening, before shifting Sebastian onto the bed more firmly, bare inches from Ciel, and leaning down to devour his mouth with a hard click of teeth and luxurious swipe of tongue.

So stunned was Ciel by this that he couldn't seem to- _process_- what was happening. Sebastian certainly had, but the expression he wore was a curious blend of excitement, frustration, and wrath. Ciel stared rather blankly as Claude shifted. Pinning Sebastian more firmly, legs between Sebastian's own obscenely long ones, hands firm on his forearms, mouth biting and sucking, Claude began to move against his rival. HIs movements possessed a kind of undulating grace that, quite frankly, Ciel had never seen before in his life.

'Oh,' he managed, and fell silent again. Claude flicked him a questioning look. 'Er.' Sebastian, still pinned into complacency by Ciel's order, tossed his head in an effort to dislodge his… attacker.

'Young master,' he began, voice a little breathy, hair tousled and lips shining wetly in the afternoon sun, but Ciel gave a funny sort of bob and just. Blinked at him. 'Young master, allow me to deal with this- _miscreant._'

Claude licked his chops idly, turned an assessing stare on the young lord sitting in bed next to them, and then descended again to lick and suckle a bright ring of bruises around Sebastian's neck. (He'd been well aware of the man's oral fixation- it was hard to miss-, but until now Ciel hadn't exactly appreciated it for what good it could serve.)

'_Young master,'_ hissed Sebastian, eyes flaring red-something. Ciel shook himself, studied the lay of Claude's hands on his butler's narrow chest, and came to a conclusion. (Questioned on it later, he'd mumbled something about sharing and lessons and busied himself with the flan.)

'Sebastian,' the demon drew himself rigid with anticipation, though he couldn't quite resist writhing faintly against Claude's still-moving form, 'I order you to concede to Claude's requests, within reason.'

'Requests! _Reason_!' Hissed Sebastian.

'I have no claws to rake you with, no poison sting to prick you with,' Claude murmured lowly against the underside of Sebastian's chin, and then licked him there. 'I am a considerate bedmate.'

Ciel took note of the tone. There was a strong element of _unlike some people_ hidden in there. After a brief but illuminating moment of thought, he decided he didn't want to know much at all about that Trancy freak.

'You _have_ been telling me I should learn something about how to do this sort of thing,' Ciel told Sebastian in what he hoped was an infuriatingly supercilious manner.

'With _women_,' Sebastian hissed, and then shut his eyes when Claude began to peel off his jacket, 'not _spiders._'

'I imagine the theory is the same,' Ciel responded, and, feeling rather bold, reached forward to stroke his butler's hair. Sebastian reacted to the touch oddly, sliding an eye opened to look at Ciel warily. Even so, it was well worth it- his hair was sleek and firm, glossy as a raven's wing and thick enough to give it a certain stiffness. 'It isn't too bad, is it?'

Claude had finished with the jacket and was now working on the various accouterments any respectable English butler wore to keep himself neat. At the question, he flicked his gaze upwards and gave Ciel a smile as sweet as that of a child's. Though he was a little disconcerted by that expression on a demon's face, Ciel was too polite to say so; he simply shrugged in response

'It won't be,' Claude promised, and then in one swift motion undid Sebastian's shirt and dragged his tongue up the man's belly. Sebastian seized a hold of his master's arm, staring fixedly at the ceiling; Ciel could see the muscle in his jaw twitching.

'You know, you could try to enjoy it.' Sebastian looked at Ciel's arm, firmly in his hold, and said nothing. Ciel leaned in and tucked his head against Sebastian's, mouth at his ear. 'Is it bad?'

The shaky exhale Sebastian gave clued Ciel in to the fact that Claude's oral fetish was being put to good use again. The clink of a belt buckle and one soft, muted slide of a button being undone later, Sebastian was shivering and shuddering, hands releasing Ciel to clutch at Claude's already-mussed hair.

Sitting back on his heels, Ciel took in the sights: Claude bent over Sebastian, expression rapturous, hands splayed on his skinny hips, Sebastian tense and breathless, just the faintest bit pink in the highest arch of his cheeks, lips parted, tongue sweeping over his own lips as if seeking something, body arced up like an ecstatic offering.

'Mmm,' Claude commented idly, working at what he'd freed from Sebastian's pants with a studiousness than belied the intensity of his expression. As Ciel watched, he shifted his weight so as to bring a hand up to work between Sebastian's legs as well. The moan that came from his unwilling subject was so throaty as to share a border with a purr. Ciel petted at his hair again once, then did it some more when Sebastian turned his face into his master's hands.

Displaying the unusual level of talent that Ciel had come to expect of a demon butler, Claude simultaneously slid Sebastian's pants and underthings down over his thighs while swallowing his cock in a hard, sudden bob of his head. The resultant stifled cry of shock would have brought that disturbingly sunny smile to Claude's face, Ciel felt certain, if his mouth wasn't currently occupied.

'Nn, ah,_ nnnnn_-!' Sebastian protested. His hands, still gloved, were fisted in Claude's hair tightly enough to make the cloth ride up a bit over the tops of his wrists. The suddenness with which Claude threw back his head and shook it surprised Ciel; Sebastian seemed to war with himself and eventually allow relief to claim victory over his demeanor.

'What are you-?' Ciel asked, but Claude winked at him (disconcerting, that, and not a little creepy). He bent down and Ciel realized he was untying Sebastian's shoes, then peeling off his socks, and finally removing his counterpart's clothing completely. Well… almost completely. When Claude was done (and he peeled Sebastian's pants off his with _teeth_, what a show-off) Sebastian was left with his shirt, the long tails framing his narrow body attractively, and nothing else at all.

'Presentation is everything,' Sebastian said with the air of somebody trying to teach a lesson while simultaneously being attacked by fire ants. Claude slid a bit sideways, tossing off his own shoes in a decidedly casual fashion.

'And nothing,' Claude continued, before turning a curious stare on Ciel himself.

Familiar enough with the other butler to know that he wanted something, Ciel still hesitated when Claude slid up Sebastian's body to pull him to him. But Claude hadn't spoken falsely (strange, for a demon), and it was with tenderness and care that he undid Ciel's own shoes, momentarily pausing with one of his feet resting in his palm.

'_Claude_,' grated out Sebastian. Ciel had never heard him sound so angry in so non-fatal a situation. He gave his butler a nervous side-glance.

'Calm yourself,' came the level reply, and then he was pulling Ciel's jacket off and tugging him to sit on Sebastian's belly. He leaned in, running his mouth up the back of Ciel's neck (he could feel a curious heat on a certain part of his tongue, as if the weight of his unused seal was pressing up, trying to leap into the body it touched). The slow, meaningful way he did it pricked goosebumps along Ciel's spine; he had to put his hands on Sebastian's chest to steady himself.

Ciel shuddered faintly when Claude's mouth left him. He could hear the man shifting behind him and, trusting Sebastian to see if anything truly dire was heading his way from the other demon's direction, he focused on his demon.

Petting a hand idly over his bared throat, Ciel watched in fascination as the marks Claude had left faded like wilting flowers. Sebastian's gaze, heavy-lidded, was focused entirely on _him._ Torn between exhilaration at the feeling of power and caution at what that meant, Ciel met the look with an authoritative tip of his head and a level, assessing stare. He'd never seen Sebastian like this- of course not. But, more interestingly, he'd never seen Sebastian at the mercy- yes, the _mercy!_- of somebody else.

In fact, Ciel mused, hearing Claude setting to work on Sebastian again, feeling the hard buck Sebastian gave when it happened, this whole thing was a bit… off. Why had he allowed this to happen? It was almost as if…

But he was distracted from that line of thought by the fluid rolling of Sebastian's hips under him. He'd spread his legs wide to be sitting where he was, so each upward motion of Sebastian's jarred him in a most pleasant manner. His butler seemed to know it, too, judging by the secret little smile on his mouth. Ciel reached forward and, quite serenely, placed a hand over Sebastian's eyes just as he felt the bed dip and shift and Claude's front came to rest against his back snugly.

The scream Sebastian let out was so intensely _feeling_ that Ciel was almost grateful for the arm that Claude wrapped around his midriff. After a puzzled look upwards at Claude and then down at Sebastian, Ciel understood: Sebastian had been… _breached_, he decided. That wasn't _too_ bad sounding.

Claude began to move then, hips snapping down and in with urgent force. The way he'd positioned himself, Ciel could feel both his actions- thrust after thrust- and Sebastian's responses- every shudder, every yielding shift, every inch further that he spread his legs. It was rather decidedly deliberate. (Ciel wondered if Claude had thought of this arrangement while drying the linens.)

Sebastian was, to be crass, a noisy fuck. With Claude at his back, tonguing every dip and rise of his spine, his body surging into Sebastian's, Ciel couldn't help but appreciate the kind of volume that his butler could get up to. He would have been more concerned with others overhearing if he hadn't seen the little tangle of a web over the frame of the bed; Claude's webs, he knew, had a very strange effect on certain things, not the least of them sound.

So Sebastian writhed and moaned and begged, his hands reaching up to grasp at Ciel's legs with bruising force. (A remarkable show of restraint on his part, Ciel felt; he'd seen those hands shatter stone, after all.) And Claude had shown neither mercy nor cruelty, only the burn of desire, reaching to tuck Ciel's body more tightly to his so he was moving in time with each thrust. Ciel himself didn't resist, certainly, and his clothing was less and less comfortable than he would have liked with each resounding scream Sebastian let loose. But his mind was occupied, following the thread of today's events like Theseus escaping from the Labyrinth.

He felt _it_ when Sebastian bucked against them both. The demon's black nails paled to a deep gray when Claude grabbed his hands off Ciel's legs and held them above his head. As he shivered under them both, tossing his head wantonly, Ciel felt a tug somewhere around the level of his belly- nothing solid, just a faint sympathetic stirring. Sebastian finally collapsed back, sighing deeply, and swallowed.

Claude released his hands, drew a hand down the growing wetness along Ciel's shirt, and pressed his white-covered fingers against Ciel's mouth. He was about to resist, possibly even bite, but the suddenly-riveted expression on Sebastian's face was heady; he took every long, thin finger offered into his mouth one by one, licking each one clean languidly. Sebastian swallowed each time Ciel did, his gaze fixed on his master's face.

The soft grunt from behind him told Ciel that Claude had finished as well. He gave Sebastian's body one more hard thrust before sliding back and away, shifting to collapse on his back next to his fellow demon.

That left Ciel perched on Sebastian like a forgotten ornament. Rather than allowing himself to be further drawn in (and no, no, he had not forgotten that pull, he knew what it was and he was unamused), Ciel simply undid his shirt and tossed it off, then wiggled and squirmed and finally tossed off his pants as well, leaving him in his boxers. He would have been more embarrassed, but- _really._

Sebastian had lifted his head to fix Ciel with a rather interested look.

'Move over,' he ordered, and was completely unsurprised when both of them moved only enough to sandwich him between them. Possessive bastards, both of them.

Post-coitus, Claude looked far more ruffled than Sebastian. However, Sebastian was for all appearances now half-asleep, eyes mostly shut, while Claude was looking at Ciel intently. 'The next time you use your webs to get what you want,' Ciel told him, and gave him a very hard poke in the ribs that made him wince (he wasn't sure if it was for Ciel's own pride or if it had actually hurt a bit, though he suspected it was the former), 'I will ask Sebastian to burn any spiders I see about the place.'

'What fun,' Sebastian cooed, and shifted against Ciel to give him more room.

'… Hn!' Snorted Claude. 'I did not expect you to notice that.'

'The young master is quite perceptive,' Sebastian said in such an arrogant manner that nobody would have known he was begging to be fucked _harder _just ten minutes ago, 'it wouldn't do to have a master who could be easily overestimated.'

'God,' Ciel groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. 'Do you two ever stop?'

'Doubtful,' Sebastian chirped again, giving Ciel a cheeky little nuzzle.

'I am unsure,' Claude replied, and ruffled his hair back into a proper (for him) arrangement. 'However- the matter of the room has been settled. It will be red.'

Ciel waited one, two, and then three beats. He savored the feeling of Claude's triumph and the sour sulk of Sebastian's defeat before clearing his throat.

'Actually,' he said, and felt the attentions of both demons lock on to him, 'I think I'd like a green patterned wallpaper put in.'

The complete dismay with which they both stared at him was so deeply satisfying that Ciel tucked his head under a pillow and fell into an afternoon nap near-instantly.

Yes, life was good.

* * *

The next day Ciel was confronted with so many spiderwebs over the dining room's doorway that he was forced to fetch an ornamental knife from the guest parlor and stab his way in. When Sebastian entered the room with five kinds of fresh-baked bread and three types of scone, Ciel just stared at him.

'How troublesome,' Sebastian said mildly, wiping a long trail of spiderwebs from the top of his head.

'I thought,' Ciel snapped out in utter wrath, 'that you two had _resolved _these _issues._'

'Ah, yes,' Sebastian agreed, pouring the day's first cup of tea, 'but there are the linens to be considered, after all.'

Later that day, with Sebastian triumphantly shaking out the first of many sheets, Ciel turned to Claude and, in mute fury, shook a thick mat of webs at him.

'My apologies,' the demon offered, ' but Mr. Michaelis seemed rather upset at the fact that his duty of dressing and undressing the young master had been usurped, albeit temporarily.' Meilin, who was strolling about in the background, fell to the ground with a splendid gush of blood from her nose; Claude surveyed this with utmost surprise while his three servants appeared from behind a nearby hedge and attempted to revive her.

Struggling to find some kind of thing to say to this, something reasonable to say in the face of such inane absurdity, Ciel finally shook his head. The house was brimming with people _indeed_.

'My cup runneth over,' he sighed, and went to find Mr. Tanaka.

* * *

NEXT CHAPTER: Sebastian gets his revenge in the most absurdly inventive way possible, proving that it is, indeed, possible to outspin a spider.


	2. Webbing

While Sebastian seemed as cool and collected as ever, Ciel knew better. Ever since that spring day when he'd been bettered, Sebastian had been biding his time, waiting and patiently accumulating knowledge to use against his fellow butler. To be honest, Ciel hardly expected anything less than a complete and thorough course of revenge. The fact that he waited until the depths of winter to throw his plan into action was the only surprising part. Honestly, even to Ciel's mind, that was a long time to wait. (He did suppose that being buggered deserved your full attention in terms of revenge, though.)

It seemed to be a good time to spring into action, though- Claude seemed to have finally let his guard down, and the webs around the house were made of a much finer, softer silk than they had been while he was awaiting retribution. Ciel mused on all this one day, knowing full well that Sebastian would put his first move on the board today. It was obvious- he'd shown off a bit for breakfast today, and so Ciel was enjoying a breakfast of fresh fruit while a hard blizzard hammered the estate.

'Ah,' said Sebastian, with all the cool delight in the world. 'Is that a bit of fresh green I see?' He was currently clutching the coal bucket, in the process of bending down to refresh the dining room's hearth. Ciel looked up from a piece of pineapple.

'Green? In the middle of the winter?' He scoffed.

'In the trees there,' he gestured. Ciel peered out the window, but all he could see were pine trees and a quiet hibernating oak.

'They're evergreens, Sebastian.'

'Does the young master have so little faith in me that he would actually think I could mistake a pine tree for mistletoe?' Well, that gave Ciel pause. God only knew what mistletoe could have to do with a plan, but its connection with kissing made him wonder.

'And _what_ do you want mistletoe for?' It was only early December, after all.

'It lends a friendly air to a place, I have always felt.'

'You're not the one that gets caught under it,' he grumbled, still remembering an incident from a few years ago involving several old women.

'Exactly! I shall send Finny out to collect some.'

'You won't go yourself?'

There was a brief, funny look on Sebastian's face when he turned back to look at the plant. Ciel pinned it as some kind of ironic self-flagellation or… something. 'No, I don't find myself terribly fond of the collection process.'

'Holy tools, hn?' It slipped out seemingly without Ciel's permission, but once he said it he knew he'd been right.

'As the young master says,' Sebastian agreed, and swept his empty oatmeal bowl from the table and vanished into the kitchen in a singularly swift motion.

Ciel blinked after him. Finally, he turned back to his breakfast and the pineapple still waiting on his fork.

* * *

He found Claude dusting the books in the library quite sedately. Ciel wondered if he knew that Sebastian had put his revenge into motion, but didn't feel like revealing it if he didn't. (Ciel was a bit sore about the whole thing himself- he did not _like_ to be controlled, no, not at all.)

So he sat down in his favorite chair in the library and cracked open a book of fairy tales. He'd never been particularly _fond_ of them, but neither did he dislike them. At the least, they served as good models for proper behavior. ('Don't eat the strange house in the middle of the woods', however, he still had questions about. Who needed to be told that? _Who?_)

'Hm?' Claude said, and went to peer out the window behind Ciel's chair.

'Mistletoe,' Ciel told him absently, 'and Finny.' If he was lucky the boy would remember not to knock down the trees containing it, just cut the plants. (He wondered if they actually had a golden sickle, too, or just a normal one.)

'That boy,' Claude ventured very cautiously, 'is incredibly…' He paused. It was clear he didn't actually know _what_ Finny was.

'Mmm,' agreed Ciel. 'We enjoy it and loathe it in equal amounts.' And it was true. He would never have told Sebastian this- he understood the value of secrets, of course, but he better understood the value of small secrets doled out. Claude was the kind to keep secrets, hoard them, and never share them out. He enjoyed holding his cards to his chest, only taking pleasure in the final reveal.

'I see,' said Claude, sliding his eyes over to Ciel. Pretending not to notice, Ciel continued to flip through his book until he found where he'd last left off.

Hannah and Meilin walked by the open doorway of the library. Ciel paused in his reading to watch them go by. Once again she and Meilin were attempting to deal with the persistent issue of the mouse infestation in the place. Sebastian's fondness of cats, of course, held some value, but there was only so much one feline could do.

It seemed that the two women, however, complemented each other quite well. Meilin often encouraged Hannah's less somber side (or so he'd heard- he had no proof of this, nor proof that such a side existed). Hannah, in turn, managed to prevent many of the disasters that followed her fellow maid by sheer competency. Ciel supposed that after dealing with a hyper-sexed psychotic _nouveau riche_ false heir, anything was manageable.

… Except, perhaps, mice. They were still troublesome- this Ciel concluded as he inspected the nibbled back cover of the very book he was reading.

It was time, he decided, for a new moral: kill all mice on sight.

* * *

Later that day, he heard the servant's door bang open and Finny's excited shout. Sebastian bowed himself away from his idle conversation with Claude and slipped into the servant's corridors connected to the family sitting room. Mr. Tanaka chuckled faintly to himself as Sebastian went. (Ciel had to wonder- did he, too, know that Sebastian was planning something? Or was he just being his normal puzzling self?)

'Mr. Michaelis seems excited about mistletoe,' Claude mused slowly. It was obvious from his tone that he found that a bit suspicious.

'Mr. Michaelis,' Ciel sighed, and resisted the strong urge to make whinnying noises for the horses as he played with the newest Funtom toy carriage ('field tests', he called them, and pretended to make notes about the toys now and then if anybody got suspicious as they watched him), 'is excited about everything from linens to cutlery. I suspect this is a hard period for him, having so little to manage.' An outright lie- winter was often their busiest 'otherworld' season. Like as not it was due to the issue of boredom- it led people to do some terrible things, he'd found. Judging by the way Claude nodded his head, though, he'd bought it.

'I'm sure, then, that he would not mind a bit of help.' Ciel said nothing, just shrugged idly. At least no massive webs had appeared as of late.

Claude vanished into the same corridor Sebastian had. Ciel lifted his head, waited for the door to click and Claude's footsteps to receede, and then took a hold of the toy horses and proceeded to whinny as if his life depended on it.

Mr. Tanaka, over on one of the couches, chuckled again softly. Ciel looked up, suddenly self-conscious, but was only met with a gentle smile of approval.

'_Neigh_,' Ciel said rather boldly, and then went on to make galloping noises too.

Claude entered the kitchen just as Sebastian was beginning to sort out all the mistletoe Finny had gathered from the oak branches he had… also gathered. The servant in question was thumping around happily in the mudroom, presumably discarding his snowy and sappy clothing. (He had a brief moment of mental panic, but then he recalled Finny's height and settled.)

'Ah, Claude,' Sebastain said with such infuriating familiarity that the other man had to set his teeth, 'perfect timing. If you would please help me to sort out this mess.'

It was, he decided, a bit of one. It seemed as if Finny had simply taken his cutting instrument to whatever he could possibly reach. This amounted to them having to basically pry the mistletoe off the tree along with the occasional odd pine branch anyway, and so Claude removed his gloves and set to work elbow-to-elbow with Sebastian. (He wondered if the tree now felt bald, given how much of it seemed to be inside.)

'I've asked your triplets to go tend to the tree,' Sebastian informed him. Claude knew, of course. They _were_ his. 'It would be a terrible pain to have to pull a tree down this time of year, and the young master is a bit fond of his oaks during the summer.'

'Of course,' Claude acknowledged. He paused when he finally touched a bit of holly, though.

'Cut with a golden sickle!' Cheered Sebastian.

'Oh,' said Claude, and tried to ignore the strange numbness that prickled at his fingers as he separated pine from oak from mistletoe. 'Why?'

'The Phantomhive estate will not stand for shoddy work.' Looking at him, Claude had to wonder if he was even bothered by handling the holy plant. He certainly didn't _seem_ to be. (Bastard.)

'WE'RE BACK!' Finny shouted, pulling the triplets with him through the kitchen. The door in the mudroom banged in their wake.

'Thank goodness, I don't know what we would have done otherwise,' Sebastian commented with such dryness that Claude almost thought him to be serious.

'Don't worry, Mr. Sebastian, we'll go help with the mice!'

An expression of pure pain flitted across Sebastian's face.

'Yes, I see. Mind that you keep the walls intact this time; I don't fancy having to call out the masons in this weather.' Finny tossed out a firm salute.

'Right!'

'And the windows, too.'

'Okay!'

'The bookshelves,'

'Mr. Sebastiannnnn….!'

'and the books of course,'

'But-'

'And the chairs and the floor and the bookshelves again.'

'But how are we supposed to do anything?' Finny fretted, looking dangerously close to tears. Behind him, the triplets consulted each other gravely.

'You will manage,' Sebastian assured him in the manner of one promising a death sentence if he was proven wrong.

Claude waited until they'd all filtered out before setting down the branch he'd been working on. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at him but continued his own work, fingers working nimbly even amongst the hard prickles of the holly leaves.

'The sap sticks terribly.' He inspected his hands, still tingling numb. They were stained a mixture of clearish gold and dusty white from the different trees. Curiously, he raised a finger to his mouth and licked- and then winced at the taste. Too, there was that horrible tingle of the holly- his tongue went a bit numb. He looked up to find Sebastian smiling mockingly at him.

'Surely you have met with tree sap before.'

'Of course,' Claude turned to the sink and began to try and scrub the stuff off. 'But only within a tree. I think I much prefer it there.'

'Hn,' Sebastian offered, clearly unimpressed. He was almost done with the sorting. Claude studied him from behind, drying his hands (being a demon had many advantages, of course, one of them being the ability to shed sap- but not, he found, that horrible _tingling_). Thin and narrow, handsome to the point of beauty, with such a dark shade of hair that even for a demon it was quite striking, stern of stance but careless of the holy plant he handled now: Sebastian Michaelis was a curious blend of tightly managed and feral.

Of course it was only natural to step up behind him and trail his lips over the back of his pale neck. The hairs on the nape of Sebastian's neck bristled up, his shoulders tightening and his back straightening.

'Claude-' He couldn't feel the web he'd laid down the other day, not right now. The holly was still blinding him to that sense. But webs were his art, his passion, and he didn't need to feel one to put it into effect.

He knew he'd done it properly when Sebastian relaxed incrementally against him. 'Let the holly be for now,' he murmured against his fellow demon's skin, 'and come with me.'

Sebastian made a noise- a hesitation. But Claude turned him around, reveling in the way his hard, narrow hips fit into his own hands, and kissed him so demandingly that he doubted he would have needed a web on anybody else on earth.

* * *

They ended up in one of the currently-empty guest rooms. Claude wove his as-yet-unfelt web closer and closer around his prey until Sebastian was willing to do whatever he asked. Sebastian may have been his better in blatant confrontations, but Claude would always be the master of acting from the shadows, he knew.

It was in this way that Sebastian ended up nude on his back, each of his limbs bound to one of the posts on the bed. He was trembling, nipping at Claude every chance he could get, squirming and writhing. Of course he could have broken the ropes, snapped the bed- but Claude had chosen this room with care.

Ever since his first conquest of Sebastian Michaelis, he had known it would require extraordinary measures to repeat the task. So the bed had been reinforced with many of his firmest webs, the ropes wound round and round with the finest of silks, those which were coincidentally the strongest as well.

It was with great pleasure that he took his time stripping now. He could observe that handsome chest rise and fall in pants, see those brilliant garnet eyes flashing with lust- for _him!_ Sebastian's obscenely long legs shifted, trying to find purchase, and his thin, delicate hands pulled and jerked at the ropes on his wrists.

'Claude,' Sebastian said, seeming to suddenly realize that in fact _no_, he could _not_ break free if he so desired. Perhaps he'd even managed to shake off the confusion Claude had wound into this particular web, if just for a moment. 'What-?'

'Hush.' He retrieved the oil from the slightly dusty nightstand (he'd have to remember to dust this area of rooms tomorrow) and poured a bit into his hand. He would be able to savor this, oh yes. He did enjoy a hard, fast go now and then, but it was his nature to better enjoy the leisure one could take with well-caught prey.

Sebastian made a disgruntled noise when Claude climbed onto the bed after him. His body radiated heat like a furnace. (Idly, Claude mused on the idea of tucking Sebastian into a hearth and letting him heat the room that way. Interesting.)

'_Claude_,' Sebastian hissed, trying in vain to pull his legs together. The spider demon only smiled mildly and trailed his oiled finger down and, slowly, _in. _Sebastian must have been eager for this, even if not completely, because he groaned softly and tossed his head back, body writhing against Claude's own more solid one as if he could escape through him.

Claude wasted little time in working in a second, and then third, finger. He was eager to hear Sebastian beg again, eager to hear him scream and see his fingers claw at the air. So it was with an air of intense satisfaction that he again seized up the little bottle of oil and slicked his prick. Sebastian's own was looking delightfully lickable- Claude licked his lips eagerly. But he had plans for this- these webs had been difficult to make, even for him- and so he would indulge in that at a later time.

It was with the air of a lion sitting down to eat its fill that Claude settled his body over Sebastian's, his hips between Sebastian's legs, hands on his wrists, mouth firmly on the underside of his jaw. A satisfying pace to lick and bite, he'd found, because it made Sebastian squirm intensely.

He polished each spot that his mouth touched with his tongue, trailing his way down across his throat, down over his collarbones, and over to suckle and scrape at his nipples- dusky pink, the tender color at odds with his absolutely wrathful expression. 'I am warning you, Claude.'

'Warning me,' he mused, savoring the taste of the words on his tongue. The numbness was starting to fade. 'I shall have to take such a warning to heart, then.'

He removed his hands from Sebastian's wrists, trusting his ropes to hold, and reached down to nudge and position and tease. He spared Sebastian's prick a hard stroke, garnering a gasp and a buck; he used the reaction to better position himself.

'You will regret this,' Sebastian told him very coldly from under him. Legs spread, face flushed, limbs splayed and with the very tip of Claude's sizable prick beginning to press into him, he didn't make for a very threatening picture.

'I doubt it,' Claude assured him, and began to move, forcing himself in by the very smallest increments he could manage. To his puzzlement, as he shifted himself in Sebastian neither cried out nor gasped, two things he remembered distinctly and with great pleasure from that hot spring day.

It was with a brief sense of discombobulation that he stared down at Sebastian, finally forcing himself into the other man completely. But-

_was_ he looking down? The discombobulation only increased, his sense of space and body warping and spinning, changing and shifting like something being tossed about by a hard, hot breeze.

He shook his head, confused, and shut his eyes. The clarity that brought, though- oh, _that _made him _open_ them.

'_You-!_' Claude exclaimed, expression open in honest shock. Sebastian smiled down at him serenely, then reached up and wiped one of his silky bangs from his face.

'I did warn you.' Sebastian was unbound. More than that, he was between Claude's legs, braced over his body, fingering the spider-silk-reinforced bindings Claude had prepared. Sebastian, in fact, was the one mounting _Claude_, and Claude was the one tied very securely, very firmly indeed, to the bed.

'How-?' He was stunned. He was… completely stunned. At an utter loss, even. He shook his head slightly, sight blurring when Sebastian gave an experimental sort of thrust within him.

'Surely you don't think I would have treated holly with such personal savor without a reason,' Sebastian cooed, and began to thrust into Claude in little hitches that he was sure would drive him mad.

'You planned this,' Claude realized with a sudden shock of surprise. So it turned out that this demon, too, could spin a web. One hell of a web, he decided, and grunted as Sebastian delicately tweaked one of his nipples between two fingers.

'Oh, yes. But you _must_ be more careful of where you spin those _special_ webs of yours in the future, Claude.' Mind racing, body rocking under Sebastian's, he tried to sort out what that could have meant. 'The mudroom _is_ so _very_ susceptible to cold winds if the door happens to be left open. Say,' Claude's expression expanded into shock while Sebastian's closed into dark delight, 'if a clumsy young man happened to crash into the mansion, he might not close the _door_ completely.'

And it was true, Claude realized as the last of the numbness from the holly faded. He could feel the web- and it was brittle with frost, completely shattered probably from the first brief time Sebastian had struggled against it. (He mentally made a note of how good an actor Sebastian must be.)

'Brilliant,' he breathed, and, content to yield to such a masterful turnabout of plans, arched his body against Sebastian's. (Alois' and his natures were not so terribly dissimilar- while Sebastian and Ciel both had a certain unyielding force to their personalities, Claude and his former master both possessed a certain _give._)

Sebastian was about as merciful in bed as out of it, and he allowed Claude no respite. Lean though his frame was, there was no mistaking the power he held when he was thrusting into Claude. His hands, too, touched and trailed- over his chest, around his hips, along his legs and up his thighs and scratching at his belly and clawing his ass and, and, and!

Soon enough he was panting, gasping, writhing and trying to do anything- _anything!- _to convince Sebastian to let him free. He wanted to touch, to kiss, to grasp- in short, to possess even in a small manner that force which was currently possessing _him_.

'No,' Sebastian smiled each time he was asked, 'no, I don't think so.'

To Claude's chagrin, Sebastian had much more stamina that he did. Every time he thought he was close, every time his pace picked up and his eyes slid shut, Sebastian simply tossed his head and braced himself further. He was indulgent of Claude, to a point- he stroked his prick, tugged him to completion, licked his fingers clean of his fluids in front of his eyes- but at the same time very terribly cruel. He did not cease his own movements in Claude, not even when the other demon, overstimulated, driven wild, driven half-mad, promised him everything from the silverware to the linens to the flowers.

'What's life without a bit of a challenge?' he laughed, and redoubled his efforts. Claude gasped and groaned, tossing his head helplessly. He wasn't sure if he was caught in a nightmare or a fantasy. He was growing more and more tired, both physically and because his own struggles against his own webs drained his _own_ strength.

It was with a dim sense of relief, staring up at the handsome, wrathful Sebastian, that he felt his pace grow unsteady, felt him drive into him once, twice- thrice- and then, ah, ah. He was done.

Claude was, as well- overused, his innate resources tapped out against himself, he was quite surprised to find himself dropping into a darkening sort of tunnel. Sleep, he realized. This must be sleep.

Belatedly he realized that this, too, he had built into his web- for Sebastian.

* * *

The next day and the next after, Ciel didn't see Claude at all. He only wondered what Sebastian had done to him to keep him so; he felt confident that a fight brutal enough to kill Claude would have attracted _some_ attention. At the very least Sebastian would have been infuriatingly smug.

In the interim, Sebastian and the servants (sans Tanaka, who continued to keep Ciel company in the family sitting room) dealt with their mice and hung mistletoe everywhere they could reach (and some places they couldn't).

Ciel was in the middle of a plot of aliens invading and facing the Queen's soldiers, playing with some brightly-colored moonman ships that were due to come out in time for Christmas, when he heard footsteps outside the door. Mr. Tanaka stood up and, in his vague way, went to open the door.

Outside was Claude, looking frazzled and tired and very, very confused. (Victory for Sebastian, Ciel knew.)

'Excuse me,' he said, and bowed, 'but do you know where Mr. Michaelis might be?'

'The kitchen, I think,' said Ciel, just as Mr. Tanaka went,

'Ho ho ho!'

Looking up, Ciel saw what he was chuckling about. Mistletoe, eh, and right above the doorway? He attributed it to Meilin- he hadn't missed how she'd placed her sprigs of the plant, in every doorway Sebastian happened to use.

Claude, curiously, paled to an unsightly yellowish white and looked gravely at Mr. Tanaka. The older butler chuckled once more, a cheery 'ho ho ho!', and then patted his shoulder reassuringly. Claude seemed to wilt a bit.

'I will… yes.'

'Please do,' Ciel agreed absently, inspecting one of his toy soldiers and wondering how a real English soldier would stand up to a moonman ship, 'and, Claude.'

He stopped in the doorway and looked about at Ciel. Mr. Tanaka waited patiently at the door.

'The next time you try to best Sebastian, please do remember that his temper is terribly long-lasting. The whole thing is completely irrational regardless.' Claude tipped his head at Ciel, expression thoughtful.

'Irrational? Not at all.'

'Is that so,' Ciel soured at him.

'We are simply-' started Claude, but Mr. Tanaka rather firmly interrupted him with a gentle smile.

'Young men will be young men,' and he shut the door in Claude's face with such good cheer that neither Ciel nor Claude (on the other side of the door) could find it in them to object. 'Now please, Master Ciel, do continue. I am very curious,' he sat down again on the couch with a content sigh, 'to know if the soldiers or the moonmen triumph.'

'Oh,' Ciel said in a very small voice, and blushed.


End file.
